Man’s best friend has been dissing the man (a.k.a. my husband) lately. She used to come to him with wagging tail, kisses, and sheer puppy joy. But then…something happened. None of us are quite sure what it was, but all of a sudden she became “woman’s best friend.”
“Look at that. She totally blows me off. I’m the one who takes her out every morning, feeds her, takes care of her, and now she’s totally ignoring me and goes right to you.”
It was clear my husband felt dejected. I kind of felt bad for him…for a second. Then I realized that at various times during our relationship those words….that feeling…is something I had felt and tried to convey to him. I couldn’t resist saying…
“So, how does it feel?”

Every night, or should I say morning, at about 3 a.m. I am awakened by a nagging scratching sensation on the back of my neck, followed by the dull roar of a tiny motor. When I turn to examine this annoyance, I am greeted with the sandpaper face lick and glowing eyes of my beloved cat, Marble.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my cats dearly and love cuddling with them, but when they use me as the human scratching post…I draw the line. In and out go the claws to the back of my neck, scalp, chest, nothing is sacred. He’s yet to draw blood, except when my husband abruptly tries to shove the cat out of the bed and he is in mid-scratch. The claws hook on my skin like a fishhook retrieving its daily catch.